The Truth
by abcmadi123
Summary: Tony Stark just found out he's going to be a father. The only issue: he doesn't want to be one. Tony tells Mary Parker to get an abortion, but she decides to raise the child. That is until her death leaving her son, Peter Parker, in the hands of his Aunt and Uncle. However, Peter's soon left alone in the world with nothing but his spider-like abilities—until Tony Stark comes along.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! I would like to state for the record that this is my first time writing a story set in the MCU, so bare with me. So, basically I decided to write this story since I couldn't find a well written one with Peter Parker being Tony Stark's biological son! Plus, I'm pretty picky about the details like Mary still had to be Peter's mother and it couldn't be an AU and the grammar/writing had to be high quality. Anyways, I'm gonna give a bit more of a detailed summary below:**

**Tony Stark is going to be a father. However, he doesn't want to, and he tells Mary Parker that. She chooses to raise her child on her own. Unfortunately, Mary dies and her young son, Peter Parker, is left in the care of his Aunt and Uncle. Eventually, Peter is left alone in the world with nothing but his spider-like abilities. That is until Tony Stark comes along and begins connecting the dots. As Tony Stark contemplates the livelihood of being a father, an old enemy strikes once more. But, this time he has new ammo to harm Tony Stark. / Basically, a really cute father-son relationship between Tony Stark and Peter Parker with a Marvel-worthy plot in the background. Also, due to the events of this story everything is canon up until Captain America: Civil War (so, Iron Man 1-3, Captain America 1-2, Thor 1-2, Guardians of the Galaxy 1-2 [though not relevant to the storyline], The Avengers 1-2, Ant-Man [again, not relevant], and The Incredible Hulk [although, if we want, we can pretend that never happened too. I mean, we know how Hulk came to be. Don't need the whole Betty Ross love interest plot with Edward Norton]).**

*****I do not own Marvel or any of its characters/plots (just saying that to be fancy)**

*****I overuse commas so feel free to correct my grammar!**

—

**2000**

"Ladies, ladies, calm down!" Tony Stark slurred into the microphone as applause erupted from his karaoke performance.

An arrogant grin displayed over the man's features as he bowed, crinkling his Tom Ford three piece suit that was currently only a two piece, and nearly lost his balance. The room was vibrating with the bass of the foreign song and the stampeding of hooves by the partygoers.

"I'll be here all night!" Tony declared, dropping the microphone and hopping off stage.

He was immediately crowded by a gaggle of women begging for his attention—just the way he liked his life to be. Within the hour Tony had finished off several bottles of beer, two cups of wine, a martini, three shots and cuddled up to a brunette named Veronica—or maybe Vanessa—who'd make a great companion in bed tonight at The Plaza. Her and a gal pal were rambling on about the success of Tony Stark, only boosting his already enlarged ego.

Tony rose to his feet and glanced down at the two women, "I'd love to stay and chat, but I need some fresh air."

The two were eagerly on their feet ready to follow. "Alone, if you please."

The girls pouted, but Tony didn't hear as he was already shuffling through the crowd that parted for the millionaire genius.

Tony Stark strolled out of the venue, the scent of alcohol perforating off his being. As the doors of the club closed, a muttered silence fell over the alleyway. The air outside was crisp; however, snow had yet to bless the grounds. A full moon glowed in the sky allowing moonlight to pour into the backway. New Year's Eve was always exciting in New York. Though, Tony didn't know if it could compare to last year in Switzerland. Laughter escaped his lips at the thought of Maya Hansen's body that he'd felt just one year ago. A flash crossed his vision of all the other women's skin he'd touched in the previous 365 days. As Tony stumbled on the cracked cement, bottle in hand and party glasses askew across his disarrayed hair, a soft noise caught his attention. With the alcohol in his system, Tony's senses seemed to heighten. He swerved around and caught sight of a shadow looming by a garbage can. Suddenly, Tony remembered he was alone, having scolded Happy off for interfering with his flirtation with some ginger chick. The smile on his face eased up as a panicked sobriety washed over him. However, the moonlight quickly revealed the figure. A petite woman appeared with shoulder length hair the color of amber. A glistening silver gown hugged her body. However, despite the tightness of her dress, the shape of her stomach seemed off, even more affected by the tricky shadows the light played. Tony cleared his throat and stepped forward, "I'm sorry, can I help you?"

The woman grinned expectantly, "Hi, Tony."

"Do I know you?" He asked.

"It's me, Mary . . . Mary Parker. We met last month at that party."

Tony blinked several times. "You'll have to be more specific. I frequent parties quite often."

The smile began to fade from Mary's lips. "Stan's house? You slept with me." She replied bluntly.

At the look of unrecognition, Mary continued, "I've got a birthmark shaped like an infinity symbol on my left thigh."

An expression of comprehension crossed Tony's face. He emptied his bottle and tossed it into the trash where the glass shattered against the tin bottom before clapping his hands. "Yes! Mary Parker! I remember. You could bend your body like that birthmark."

"Yes, that's me." A blush arose on Mary's tan skin.

"How can I help you?" Tony asked, the arrogance in his tone rising. "Not mad that I had to skedaddle for that, uh, meeting in the morning, are you?"

Mary shook her head, "No, no, no. Nothing like that. I, um, actually have some exciting news to share with you." Mary closed the distance between the two until their shadows merged into one.

"Tony, I'm pregnant." The moonlight reflected the glee in Mary's auburn eyes.

Suddenly, Tony wished he hadn't finished off that beer or at least had a mini bottle in his coat pocket to substitute for it.

"I'm sorry, you're what?" Tony echoed cautiously, "I could've sworn you said pregnant, but that's crazy. Right? I mean, it must just be the alcohol," he chuckled before his expression switched to seriousness. "Please tell me it's just the alcohol."

Mary bit her lower lip to suppress her growing smile that was concealing the growing doubt in her abdomen. "N-No. It's true Tony. Here," Mary grasped the man's hand and placed it on the curve of her stomach that was bloated by millimeters.

At the sensation, Tony jerked away. He shook his hand as if that could cleanse it of the idea of fathering a child. "Um, look, Mary, I'm sorry but that's not my kid. I-"

"No, it is, Tony!" Mary pleaded.

Tony cleared his throat, shaking his head vigorously as droplets of sweat pooled at his hairline despite the frosty winds. "_We_ used protection. That's not m-my baby," Tony rationalized, "Look, you're not the first crazy fan to claim you're pregnant with my child." He lied.

Tears welled in the young girl's eyes. "No, Tony. He is _ours_. Please, believe me."

Tony began stepping backwards towards the door he had exited. He wished he had continued to enjoy the party inside.

"Look, Mary, if that really is my kid, then I don't want him," Tony asserted.

"W-What?" Mary stuttered, physically shocked.

"Get an abortion, I don't care. But I'm at too good a time in my life to become a f-father. Besides, I'd be a lousy one. Just like my dad."

Tony took another step backwards; however, the paralyzed woman in front of him forced his feet to halt. Against his general wishes, Tony found himself inches away from Mary once more. His hands clasped her arms trying to draw her attention back to reality. This issue had to be resolved.

"Mary, look at me. _I_ can't do this. You can't either. What do you do for a living?"

"I work for the CIA," Mary blankly responded.

"See, that's not enough to support a kid. Plus, who's gonna watch him?"

Mary's hazel eyes finally locked with Tony's dark ones as she mumbled, "No one. You're right . . . "

A false grin crossed Tony's sharp features. "See? I know I am. Look, Mary, I will be more than happy to pay for your medical expenses. But, promise me you'll get rid of it?"

After a minute of silence, Mary nodded as her gaze fell downwards towards the cracks lining the cement—Tony could've sworn he saw a tear dance across the ground. "O-Okay. I-I'll get an a-abortion," she whispered barely audible over the thundering of partying from inside.

Tony nodded his head, forcing himself to smile for her benefit. "Good, good. My people will be in contact with you. This is all gonna wash over soon."

Mary simply nodded, unable to string syllables together to form an answer.

Tony swallowed. He placed his hands on Mary's shoulders and, standing beside her, lead her towards the crowded street. Before they reached the busy crossing, Tony's pace ceased.

"Hey, Mary. Promise me one more thing, okay?"

The woman's gaze locked with the millionaires. "What is it?" Her voice was cracked with emotions that were on the brink of breaking.

"This, uh, this baby thing stays our little secret. Got it?"

Mary's shoulders swooped, all hope fading from her being. "Alright," she whispered.

Tony gave Mary a fake grin. "Great!" He exclaimed before ushering her into the sea of faceless beings.

"I'm glad we handled this!" He called after her even though she was already lost in the crowd of people happily enjoying their New Year's Eve.

After Tony was positive Mary had gone, the same despair that clouded her being swooped over him. Suddenly, this New Year's Eve wasn't living up to Switzerland by a long shot.

Tony made his way back into the club, the sound of partying buzzing in his ears as he located the bar. People shoved into him as they danced, no longer separating now that the confidence radiating off his being had been diminished by the news outside. Tony waited several minutes for a bartender's service before ordering a dirty martini with a lemon twist, ignoring the countdown to the New Year.

As the ball dropped and everyone in the vicinity slurred 'Happy New Year!', Tony downed his drink, shuttering as the liquor burned his throat. "To my son," he muttered before setting the glass down and exiting the building, ignoring the cries from friends and fans.

A chauffer waited outside ready to take Mr. Stark anywhere his heart desired. However, the only destination on his mind was home. For now, he'd have to settle for his hotel room.

As Tony entered his suite m on the top floor, his room seemed to big and empty for one person. The windows reflected the lonesomeness he felt. The bright lights reminded him of the lack of human shadows. The king sized mattress brought back the realization that this was Tony's first New Years alone since he was 21. And for once, that didn't seem like such a bad thing. It seemed the last thing Tony Stark needed was another woman in his bed to knock up.

—

**So, there it is! Chapter numero uno of ****_The Truth_****. I know it's it bit bland, but just some general background to get the story rolling. I hope y'all enjoyed! Leave any feedback or comments or questions or criticism for me below. I'm hoping to get the next chapter up this weekend for you guys. I hope you enjoyed!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Did I just upload two chapters back to back? Haha wow don't get used to that. However, that does mean I have major muse for this story. I legit wrote that chapter at Starbucks today and it took like 3 hours and I was supposed to be doing Spanish homework? Lol it's like I wanna fail. But yea, here is chapter two!**

*****I totally forgot to say this last chapter, but in this story May and Ben are brother and sister so that Peter can keep the last name Parker. Like, imagine Peter's mom dying and Ben and May being like 'oh well, let's give him our last name now that his mom is dead so he loses all identity of who he was XD'**

**Yea, so enjoy!**

—

**2005**

"Peter! Peter, come back here!" Mary yelled in frustration, though a small smile spread on her lips.

The young boy had just jogged off into his bedroom to retrieve a toy despite his mother's protests.

Mary checked her wristwatch, the little hand nearing the three. Ben and May were expecting the two shortly, though they wouldn't be surprised if the duo arrived late.

Mary tended to lose track of time and appointments with young Peter to worry about. The sunshine in her life was a handful, but she wouldn't have it any other way.

After Mary had made the decision to keep her child despite his father's insistence she get an abortion, Mary's world had turned upside down. Luckily, her elder brother, Ben, and his wife, May, had offered to assist the single mother in any means necessary.

At first, Mary had been hesitant to accept help, but had been overall overwhelmed with the process of having a child that she gratefully accepted their aid.

Though it'd been hard after giving birth, things began to slowly look up. For all the sleepless nights and hardships came the reward of Peter's first smile; his first laugh; his first step; his first word.

The infant boy had inherited many qualities of the man who didn't even know he existed. Peter had his father's deep brown eyes with the same twinkling flecks of hazel around the irises. Though it was hard to tell at such a young age, Mary suspected he might even be as intelligent as his father in the art of science. As a toddler, Peter was always fascinated by the cars and taxis that consumed the streets at all hours of the day outside of their apartment. Peter was a bundle of energy excited by the mysteries of technology.

Mary remembered a night a few months back where Peter had wandered into her bedroom in the dead of night. She had thought something was wrong, but her son simply crawled onto the bed and questioned how the alarm clock worked. When Mary's answer came up short, Peter had another question about the rotation of the moon that his mother was able to answer. The two spent the hours until dawn together with Peter inquiring about the ways of the world and Mary answering to the best of her ability.

Peter had other interests too, of course. At the moment, he was obsessed with _Star Wars_. Peter had been pleading for a Death Star Lego set since Thanksgiving. However, the only ones she could find were collector's edition and being tight on money, Mary had settled for a figurine set of the main characters and an X-Wing fighter. She was sure Peter would love it just as much when he unwrapped it next week on Christmas morning.

Peter had also grown a love for superheroes—to nobody's surprise. He was currently into anything Captain America themed. Peter wandered the apartment with his action figure claiming that Captain America would soon return and was only in hiding until anymore danger returned for him to vanquish.

On any occasion when Mary's job required her to leave town, Peter's Aunt and Uncle were always more than happy to take their nephew for a few nights. That was also currently the situation. Mary had been requested to attend a conference in London, and although it was near Christmas, she had accepted. She was hoping for a promotion from her boss when she returned—and maybe then she could buy Peter his Death Star.

Peter came running back in from his bedroom, leaving his door cracked behind him. Mary glanced in and noticed his unmade bed as well as toys and clothes scattering the floor. She knew it needed a good tidying up, but they were short on time. Besides, it could always wait until she returned since nobody would be staying at the apartment.

"I almost forgot Captain America, Mama!" The boy exclaimed, displaying the toy in his hand.

Mary sighed and ran a hand through his locks that were in desperate need of a trimming. "Well, I'm glad you remembered him. Come on baby, I need to put your shoes on."

Peter allowed his mother to lift him onto the bench by the door so that she could slip his tennis shoes on. Mary had to lift his baggy jeans up to make sure the shoes were secure. As she tied the laces, Mary glanced up at her sweet boy who was muttering words to his action figure. His shirt had a stain down the front and his coat was looking weary.

The two would need to go shopping when Mary got back into town. Maybe, clothes would be a bit less expensive in England and she could purchase some items there.

"Okay, there you go buddy," Mary said as she stood up from her crouched position. "Don't forget your bag."

Peter swooped his red backpack from the ground and pulled it over his shoulders.

"You got everything you need for your Aunt May and Uncle Ben's house?"

Peter nodded his head as Mary continued, "Clothes? Toothbrush? Pajamas? Hairbrush? Toys?"

Peter allowed his mother to verbally list the contents of his bookbag before responding, "Yes."

"Yes what?" Mary asked, locking eyes with the four year old.

"Yes ma'am," Peter responded.

Mary smiled and muttered a praise before the duo exited the apartment. As Mary locked up, a chilly breeze sent goosebumps over her skin. She turned and began walking towards the subway station with her luggage in hand. The streets were less crowded than usual, probably because of the dark clouds lingering in the sky threatening to pour rain—or snow—on what was supposed to be a fine Sunday.

Mary quickened her pace in their rush to her brother's house. Peter followed, running along on the ledge that ran down the street and pretending to live out his superhero fantasies. The two descended into the station, Peter taking the steps two at a time and flying his Captain America figure along with him. Mary kept a close eye on him, ready to swoop in and grab him before he tumbled if necessary.

Soon, the two were seated on a train having snagged the last two available seats.

Peter eyed the strangers curiously, earning a few waves from people. He also earned a little chat with an elderly black woman about his age and figurine before informing Mary that she had two sons at college and that they wouldn't stay small forever.

Before they could finish their polite conversation, the woman got off at her stop. Peter slumped against his mother's arm and made lip bubbles before sitting up and eyeing Mary.

"Mama?" He asked.

"Yes, Peter?" She replied, looking down at his soft features.

"Where's my dad at?"

Mary's expression went blank before she recovered, not having expected such a question.

She began stuttering for a response before Peter continued, "When I was at school some kid said his dad worked at a big company. And this girl, her dad stays at home with her."

Mary gulped down the lump in her throat. "Well, Peter, not everybody has a dad. I mean, you have one. He's just not here because he's very busy."

Peter stared for a minute before nodding his head and replying, "Okay."

The moment passed so quickly, and Peter easily accepted his mother's response. She was positive that wouldn't be Peter's last interrogation of his father's whereabouts in his life. Mary's heart continued to race until they reached their stop.

Peter ran ahead of his mother, knowing the direction to his Aunt and Uncle's place all too well. His mother kept him in sight and managed to catch up once he buzzed the apartment.

Mary came up behind Peter and attempted to straighten his windblown hair before the door unlocked and the two walked up a flight of stairs to the second floor. Peter excitedly knocked on the door to apartment 2B.

In moments, the door opened to reveal a man in his mid-thirties dressed in a blue flannel button down and khakis.

"Uncle Ben!" Peter exclaimed as he attacked Ben with a hug, nearly throwing the squatting man off balance.

"Hey, kiddo. What's that you got?" He asked excitedly, knowing exactly what Peter had in his grasp considering he hadn't let the figurine out of his sight and brought it everywhere he went since he got it for his birthday back in August.

"It's my Captain America action figure! Look, I accidentally got some marker on his arm right here."

Ben chuckled as he stood up, smiling at his sister. Mary entered the little entryway, setting down her baggage and wrapping herself in her big brother's arms.

"How are you doing?" Ben muttered into Mary's ear.

As the two released, Mary nodded her head and smiled. "Holding up like I have for the past four years." Mary glanced at Peter and cleared her throat before changing the subject, "What about you? How're you and May doing in the _baby_ department?"

Suddenly, Ben's expression drooped, and he shook his head. The dark brown curls of his hair seemed to gray at the topic. "Not . . . well. May and I went to a specialist, and they said it's not gonna happen."

Mary's hand went to her brother's as she felt her own heart crush at the thought of her brother and sister-in-law missing out on the adventure of raising a child. "Oh my gosh, Ben, I'm so sorry." She optimistically added, "You could always adopt."

Ben gave a weak smile and shrugged his shoulders. "That's what we were thinking too. It's just not going to be the same."

As Ben and Mary continued their conversation, Peter went searching for his Aunt who was in the kitchen attempting to make chicken potpie; however, the light layer of smoke covering the apartment guaranteed it wasn't going too well.

May ditched the failed dish and came to greet Peter. "Hey, buddy. How do you feel about pizza tonight?" She asked, tugging the hair tie out of her messy bun and letting her long auburn hair fall down before tossing her dirty apron onto the couch.

"Can we get extra cheese?" Peter responded.

"'Course, Peter." May grinned as she greeted her sister-in-law before asking, "How long did you say you'd be gone?"

"I should be back by the twenty-third."

May nodded, "Okay. I'd ask if you want to stay for dinner, but it's not going to well."

The three laughed softly before Mary realized the time. She called Peter over as Ben and May said their goodbyes. He abandoned his action figure and backpack before sprinting over to his mother. Mary kneeled down to meet Peter's eyeline. For a moment, she got lost in that face that she knew so well, yet only ever saw on television or magazine covers now.

"Hey, baby, I'm about to leave." Mary checked her watch. "I'll call you tonight when I get into London, okay?

Peter nodded and asked, "When are you gonna be back?"

"Before Christmas," Mary responded before taking Peter's small hand in hers, "You gonna be alright with Uncle Ben and Aunt May?"

"Yes ma'am," Peter said.

A proud smile washed over Mary's lips. She pulled her son in for a tight hug before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I love you, Peter."

Peter clutched his mother for a moment longer. "I love you too, Mama."

Mary stood up and ruffled her son's dirty blond hair. She gave him one final smile before grabbing her belongings and walking out of the apartment. She waved to the trio, her eyes lingering on Peter who was waving back excitedly. As Ben shut the door, the mother and son caught sight of one another for the last time.

—

**Wow, you're welcome for breaking all your hearts. That's always fun. It was so weird writing this chapter with young Peter Parker with his mom because in my head I kept picturing Peter Quill and I was like 'no he wouldn't do that—wait, wrong Peter.' But I'm also super impressed with Marvel actually giving two main characters the same name because that is SO realistic. Like, it bothers me when you're watching TV and everyone has different and unique names like, no there are literally four people in my grade with my name.**

**Anyways, leave me some feedback because honestly I love to read it! Plus, it is a hella motivator. Like knowing that y'all enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing it is amazing!**

**Love you guys (is it too soon for that?)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey y'all! So, here is chapter numero tres. I'm really glad y'all are enjoying this story. I'm having so much fun writing it and the amount of follows and favorites and reviews has really bumped my urge to write. So, here it is!**

—

The time was going on eight o'clock. The boys were in the guest room where Peter slept while visiting. Peter was in an old baggy shirt and listening to his Uncle's tales of the life of an electrician—Peter loved to listen, and Ben loved an audience to tell.

May and Ben had extended their nephew's bedtime so that he could talk to his mother after she landed in London; about nine o'clock their time after taxiing and deplaning.

The master bedroom door opened as May exited in sweatpants and a tank top with wet hair. As she walked through the kitchen towards Ben and Peter the landline rang.

Her brows furrowed together as she wondered who would be calling at this hour—Mary wasn't expected to land for a bit longer. Unless, of course, her flight managed to get in early.

May picked up the receiver. "Hello?" She asked.

After a moment she spoke, "No, this is his wife. Can I help you?"

A minute later, the color had drained from May's dark skin and her eyes shined bright with tears.

The details of the news flowed in one ear and right out the other. Finally, May's suffering was put to ease as she said, "Thank you. Goodbye."

The phone dropped from her hand and the line was too long to save it from bouncing onto the floor below.

Ben shouted from the next room over asking if everything was alright. After he got no response, he left Peter alone to check on his wife.

Ben located May in the kitchen, her knuckles white as she clutched the island's counter and tears leaking down her face.

"Baby, what's wrong?" He asked in a concerned tone.

After a moment, May formulated a sentence, "It's your sister."

Ben tensed. "What?"

"I'm sorry, Ben. But there's been an accident. The plane . . . it went down over the Atlantic. T-They haven't located any survivors . . ."

Ben's face crumbled, his features sinking as the news struck. Tears glistened in his dark eyes before rolling down his cheeks. May embraced her husband in a tight embrace, the two holding one another together as they sobbed over the loss of a beloved.

Time slowed to a halt and the seconds felt like minutes until they really were.

The couple was so lost in their breakdown that neither noticed when young Peter entered the room. Confusion washed over the orphaned boy's face as he crept towards his Aunt and Uncle sensing the tension in the room.

"Uncle Ben? Aunt May? I'm tired . . ."

May, responding instinctively to the whispers of the small child, pulled away from her husband. Her face was stained red with the weight of loss. However, she understood Peter would need her more than ever right now.

As she stepped towards the boy, Ben's hand wrapped around her arm. As May glanced at her husband, shocked by the raw emotion on his face, he spoke: "Not tonight. In the morning. Let him have one more night of peace."

May contemplated arguing; however, her heart gave in when she turned back to Peter. His expression was so innocent, and she didn't want to corrupt it. May lifted her nephew into her arms, shielding him from the truths of reality.

"I know, Peter. Come on, let's go to bed."

"What about my Mom?" He inquired.

May's voice cracked as she forced out, "She's not gonna call tonight. But, I promise she loves you very much."

—

Ben nor May slept that night. The two gave into their grief and comforted one another. Ben's heart ached for his little sister who would never celebrate another birthday or laugh at one of his corny jokes or see her own son again. At least with his parents he'd been expecting it—his father, old and frail, taken in the night and his mother, suffering but happy, to cancer—but Mary's was too sudden; so undeserving.

Out of the two of them, May managed to bury her sorrows the best. She understood the responsibilities looming in the future and didn't have the time or effort to properly deal with the loss.

In the morning when Peter woke, he could sense the disturbance in the atmosphere. Everything suddenly felt different and wrong at the same time. He located his Aunt on the couch with an empty box of tissues on the floor.

"Aunt May?" He spoke cautiously.

May's head whipped around to face her nephew and she forced a smile onto her lips. "Hey, Peter. Did you sleep well?"

Peter nodded and neared his Aunt.

"Listen, kid, I've got some news to tell you."

Peter stepped closer, not knowing what to expect. May lifted the child into her lap, running a hand through his hair. She searched his features for any signs of his mother, but Peter was his father's son—whoever the mystery man was. The only connection May could make between Peter and Mary was the thin lips and arched eyebrows.

"Peter, last night, when your mom left for London, something happened. Her plane took off and it . . . it crashed in the water," May explained.

Peter locked eyes with his Aunt, barely comprehending her words. "Is she okay?"

May shook her head, holding in tears, "No, she's not."

"When is she coming back?"

May took a deep breath. "That's the thing, Peter. Your mother isn't coming back."

Peter furrowed his brows together. "Why not?"

"Because she's gone. Peter, when something really bad happens—like a plane crash—and people get hurt really bad, they die."

Tears welled up in the boy's eyes. May took her nephew's hands and squeezed them reassuringly. "It's okay, baby. Your mom is in a better place. She's in heaven, looking down on you with a big smile."

Peter looked at his Aunt through teary eyes. "Is she still hurt?"

"No," May said while shaking her head vigorously, "no, your mom is resting. Death is a natural part of life, Peter. It's nothing to be scared of. When someone dies, all their pain goes away and they're happy."

For the next few minutes, May comforted Peter as he cried softly. She wasn't sure he understood entirely where his mother had gone, but he'd gotten the general gist that everything was not okay.

—

Six days later the story of flight 724 had died down. Nobody, except the victims' families, seemed to care about the engine failure that had occurred three hours after the plane took off from LaGuardia Airport. The investigation had been closed by law enforcement on the second day after identifying a manufacturing issue in the right engine. The airline made a statement apologizing for the mistake that should've been identified before the loss of life as well as giving their condolences to the families who had lost loved ones.

No service had been held for Mary Parker. The loss was too great to conduct a day dedicated to her solely. May had spent hours consumed by the computer searching for proper ways to help a child deal with bereavement. Her mourning period was over, and now it was time to focus on raising her nephew.

Ben was going back to work on Monday and was handling his sister' absence well. Ben speculated that he had some practice with losing people since his parents and other relatives were all gone. After May suggested they be more active around Peter, Ben was surprisingly happy to spend as much time possible with his nephew. May suspected it was so that he could glimpse his sister in Peter's appearance and mannerisms.

May glanced over at Peter who was staring out of the taxi's window. In the past few days, the news had managed to sink in giving his skin a pasty color and sucking the happiness out of the youngster. His eyes were sunken, bags shadowing his face. He'd already withdrawn from them, closing himself in the guest bedroom and lying in bed all day long. May could count the amount of times Peter had actually finished a meal on one hand. And, at night when she got a glass of water from the kitchen, she could hear him tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep.

May turned her attention to Ben who was looking forward, his eyes dazed.

After several minutes of silence, the cabdriver pulled the car to the curb and looked back at the trio. "Card or cash?"

Ben paid as May and Peter shuffled out. Peter swallowed the lump in his throat as he eyed his home. The windows were covered by curtains, but no light shone through from the inside. It could be abandoned for all anybody knew.

As May climbed the stairs leading to the door, she glanced down at her nephew who was glued to the sidewalk. She quickly joined him.

"Come on, Peter. We won't be long. I promise. We're just gonna get some stuff from your bedroom, okay?" She aided calmly.

Peter took a deep breath and nodded, "Okay."

They entered the house followed by Ben. Though nothing was out of place, everything felt wrong. Peter felt a shiver tickle his spine as he stepped onto the carpet. He forgot to remove his shoes like always, but his mother wasn't around to remind him. May's hand on his back guided him to the bedrooms in the back and through the door on the right door.

Everything was exactly where'd he left it nearly a week ago. The floor was scattered with toys and socks missing their counterpart and doodles on printer paper. His twin bed was unmade, the comforter strewn at the bottom with the sheets knotted together. The dark blue walls were tacked with pictures of superheroes and drawings made by Peter.

"We're just getting some clothes and whatever toys you want, Peter."

The boy nodded as his Uncle tugged open the large duffle bag he's brought before wandering off to explore the rest of the apartment. It needed to be cleared out by the end of January so that the owner could rent it to new tenants.

For the next hour, May packed clothing as Peter shifted through his mess of toys only choosing to keep a few things. Somehow, everything felt connected to his mother and he didn't want to carry any of it into a new life. In the end, Peter ended up with a deck of cards, some action figures, a pen with the words _Stark Industries_ inscribed on the side, and a photograph of him and his mom at Coney Island grinning happily.

May had a concerned expression on her face but didn't combat her nephew's decision. "Are you ready to go, Peter?"

The child looked up with a hazed expression, having been lost in his own world, before nodding. "Yeah."

May took the stuffed bag and loaded it onto her shoulder before going to find her husband. Peter slowly found his footing. Somehow, the small boy comprehended that this would be his last time visiting the only home he'd ever known.

May called her nephew from the living room and Peter knew it was time to leave. He walked to the door, making the executive decision not to look back. Ben, his back to Peter, was holding two small packages that he shimmied into the bag of Peter's belongings—the only things he had left in life.

"Come on, baby," May said, opening the door and stepping outside.

Peter followed his Aunt onto the landing. As Ben locked up, Peter couldn't help but glance back. The door was swinging shut as he turned, and all young Peter Parker saw was a sliver of the living room drenched in light that highlighted the dust coating the empty apartment.

—

**Wow, wasn't that just heart crushing. You would not believe how much my neck hurts from peering over my shoulder to make sure nobody saw me Googling 'child ****bereavement****.' Lol, but I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter. I've got a fluff chapter coming up next that's just really cute and then we should be hitting the exciting incident of this story arc!**

**The next chapter should be up by Saturday. Bye!**


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